Chapter 10 - Misalignment (1)(1)

“What is a Knight of Atanga, sir?”

The boy's abrupt question made Hogel, who was hammering, pause and glance at Najin. Hogel had called Najin to the forge to check his build and how he wielded the sword, even though the sword was not yet complete.

'He could just leave after I took his measurements, but here he is, starting a conversation.'

Hogel, slightly annoyed at the interruption to his work, yet intrigued by the nostalgic name mentioned, set aside his hammer for a moment.

The Knights of Atanga.

A story worth pausing his hammering for. Hogel, rich with years of experience and not one to be stingy in sharing his stories, took a sip of water and began to speak.

“Ah, Atanga. A name I fondly remember. Why, did Ivan mention Atanga?”

Najin nodded, and Hogel inwardly clicked his tongue. It was rare for Ivan to speak of Atanga.

“So, what is Atanga? Sounds like a famous family name.”

“Atanga is not a family name, young one,” chuckled Hogel.

“While most knights belong to a family and identify themselves with it, those from Atanga are different. Atanga is a kind of military group, a knightly order.”

The Atanga Knights.

“A knight is someone who upholds honor and pride. Without honor and pride, a knight should not and cannot exist.”

These were the ones who preserved the old rules of knighthood.

“Centuries have passed since the age of heroes, and the meaning of the word ‘knight’ has changed a lot. Nowadays, anyone with strength, even without honor or pride, can become a knight.”

It was an era where the weight of the name 'knight' had diminished. Muttering so, Hogel spoke emphatically.

“Atanga Knights stand directly against this era. They insist that without honor and pride, one cannot be called a knight, holding onto the old rules and redefining what it means to be a knight.”

Some call Atanga idealists. Others say it's where the truest of knights belong.

“Rigid, upright, sometimes foolish, but that's why they're undeniably endearing.”

“You talk as if you've met many of them.”

“I have. I've forged quite a few swords for them.”

The old man's eyes grew distant, filled with memories. A faint smile played on Hogel’s lips, lost in the past.

“Well, that's what Atanga knights are like. Living and dying by honor and pride. Just like the knights in fairy tales.”

“That sounds quite cool.”

“They are, especially when they speak of their honor and pride.”

Though they often seem foolish. Muttering this, Hogel picked up his hammer again.

“Your sword will be ready in about three to four days. Come to pick it up then. If you need a sword in the meantime...”

“Oh, I'm fine.”

Najin interrupted him.

Standing up, he gestured towards his waist.

“I can use this for the time being.”

Pointing to where he gestured, there hung Ivan’s sword, a masterpiece forged by Hogel about ten years ago. Seeing Ivan's sword with Najin, which should have been on Ivan’s waist, surprised Hogel.

“Ah...”

Hogel laughed.

“Ivan must have taken a liking to you.”

“Well, I am quite something.”

“Cheeky brat.”

Jokingly, Najin left the forge as Hogel watched him go, laughing heartily for the first time in a while.

***

“So, what did you do about it?”

Offen's question, missing its subject, briefly halted Ivan's work on the sword. But only for a moment. Ivan continued his work, responding since he knew what Offen was asking.

“I decided to teach him.”

“That’s surprising. Did you see something?”

“I did. Probably the same thing you saw.”

Ivan smirked. Offen shrugged, knowing that anyone who has walked the path of the sword would recognize Najin's talent.

A brilliance that shouldn't be buried in this city.

Ivan's mixed expression of bitterness, joy, and excitement revealed his thoughts.

“I thought of crippling him so he couldn't wield a sword, but the kid pulled out sword aura. Blocked my sword with it. Even pushed it back.”

The standoff ended with both swords shattered.

But for a moment, Ivan felt overpowered by Najin.

“Crazy kid. He pulled it off without being taught.”

“At eighteen, just a fragment of sword aura.”

“Youngest ever. Even the famed Sword Saint, Karan, drew sword aura at twenty-three, as per records.”

Which meant...

“The upper world would be in chaos if they found out.”

“Yes. Such a prodigy shouldn't emerge from a place like this.”

Najin's existence was a clear 'threat'. Born elsewhere, he could have been hailed as a prodigy, receiving all sorts of support.

But Najin was born in the underground city.

And everyone born here was a sinner.

Like the damned of Camlan, heretics who reached for the forbidden. If word got out that such a heretic possessed brilliant light, the upper world, especially the Church, would surely try to bury him.

“So.”

Ivan said.

“We need to make him invaluable, too significant to be covered up.”

A Sword Expert could easily be suppressed from above. Unable to resist. But if Najin reached the next level?

Sword Seeker.

Standing between human and transcendental beings, between Sword Expert and Master. Wanderers of the sword, seeking ascension. If Najin reached that rare realm accessible to only a few Sword Experts...

Even those above wouldn't be able to bury him quietly.

A massive force would be needed to suppress a Sword Seeker-level warrior. If they tried, it would inevitably create noise, alerting someone. Quietly handling it would be impossible.

“If we get that far.”

Ivan, refurbishing the sword he wielded as a knight, continued.

“We might negotiate with the upper world. They would have to listen to us then.”

In that negotiation, Ivan and Offen would sit as Najin's mentors. Not as trash fallen from grace in the underground city, but as knights and mercenaries.

“It's not easy.”

“Difficult, but not impossible.”

“If we succeed, we climb back up again. If we fail, it's death. Quite the bold gamble.”

“But worth taking.”

Ivan grinned.

“An impudent kid who drew sword aura without being taught. Isn’t he worth the gamble?”

A complete change in attitude from the previous night at the tavern. At this, Offen laughed incredulously.

“Uncharacteristic of you. You never used to take such risks.”

“I didn’t. Until I lost an eye and fell down here.”

But then, Ivan added.

“What can I do after seeing that?”

The brilliance of the boy. A glow too beautiful to rot in this underground city. That light rekindled a dream Ivan had abandoned since falling into the underground.

Remembering that brilliance, Ivan laughed.

Not the murky laugh of the ruler of the underground city, but the clear laugh of a knight who once chased the stars.

“You’re still the same.”

Offen chuckled at Ivan’s demeanor.

‘So it’s come to this.’

When Offen first witnessed Najin's brilliance, he pitied the boy's fate. Condemned to decay in this city for life, Offen felt sorry for him. That’s why he casually suggested to Ivan at the tavern to gamble on Najin.

An impulsive proposal born from sympathy for the wretched kid.

Ivan accepted the proposal, fleshing out a plan. It was like seeing Ivan from his knightly days. A scene now strange yet nostalgic.

“Huh…”

With a slight smile, Offen exhaled deeply. Not his usual drunken breath. Clear-headed, he placed a hand on the hilt of his cherished sword from his mercenary days.

“We’ll be busy from now on.”

“Indeed. Need to think of ways to train him.”

“Well, that, but also this.”

Offen gestured with his drawn sword.

“First, we need to figure out what to do with this.”

Offen’s sword tip pointed to an entrance leading to Horace’s territory. Not the main gate at Hogel’s forge, but a backdoor through a tunnel.

Of course, there were guards at the back entrance.

With a knight’s smile fading from his face, Ivan narrowed his eyes, assessing the guards’ movements and the condition of their equipment, his hand caressing the hilt of his sword.

“Four common soldiers and one officer.”

“Is that one Senya? Never met him.”

“Not really. He knows how to handle mana, but he's not an Expert. Probably their fourth leg.”

“Any traps?”

“None visible right now.”

“Then we’re good.”

Offen gestured with his chin.

“I'll take the three on the right.”

“Then I'll handle the officer.”

The conversation ended there.

From atop a hill overlooking the tunnel entrance, the two men, as if on cue, silently dashed down. But no sound of footsteps followed.

Offen, who had completed countless missions as a mercenary.

Ivan, who had been deployed in numerous operations as a knight.

They might not match a Ranger specialized in stealth and assassination, but both had their fair share of experience in infiltration and targeted killings. They weren’t Sword Experts just from swinging their swords against walls. Their practical experience was more than ample.

TL/N: Looks like there are two different stages in power rankings, Sword Expert < Sword Master. And Ivan and Offen are now revealed to be Sword Experts, so we’ll be using that going forward.

Thud.

By the time the sound of footsteps echoed, Ivan and Offen were already upon the guards.

Before the guards could widen their eyes and scream, Offen’s sword had already sliced through their throats.

Blood splattered. Cutting through the blood, Offen’s sword shot forward like a dart.

“Ugh…”

Another guard’s throat was impaled.

Pulling his sword out of the guard's neck and taking a large step forward, Offen reached out towards the mouth of another guard who had turned around too late.

Squeeze.

Silencing the guard by twisting his throat, three guards were dead in an instant. After swiftly dispatching the three, Offen exhaled and turned around.

“Gurk, gurk…”

An officer, grasping his own throat, writhed on the ground. However, it didn't last long. Ivan struck down the officer's back with his sword.

A brief spasm.

The officer ceased to move.

The method was simple: first silence them by slashing their throats, then finish them. After withdrawing his sword from the corpse, Ivan gestured towards the tunnel. A signal to move forward.

Thud.

Heading into the dark tunnel, the two proceeded.

***

Late in the afternoon, Najin was patrolling the streets.

Only a few in the organization knew Ivan was away, and what could possibly happen in just a few days?

‘But there’s always a possibility.’

With the city’s atmosphere growing increasingly tense, there might be a spy from Horace’s side looking to cause trouble. While patrolling, Najin found nothing unusual.

“…”

Walking, he found himself near the square. Najin glanced at the soldiers guarding the center of the square. Today was the last day of the 13-day trial of the sword, wasn’t it?

The Sword of Selection, Excalibur, was said to vanish at midnight. For the past 13 days, Najin had frequently visited the square, hoping to see the sword, but aside from the first day, he saw neither the sword nor its light.

‘All I did was gaze at the soldiers’ armors.’

Najin smirked bitterly.

But now, he no longer needed to linger around the square. Tomorrow, the Holy Sword would disappear, and so would the voice that had been echoing in his ears.

Draw the sword. You are the one who can.

Chewing over the almost familiar sentence, Najin moved his reluctant feet. Just as he was about to leave the square,

“Najin!”

Someone called his name

.

Najin turned his head back. There was an organization member running towards him, one of the few who knew Ivan was away.

‘Collector Zek.’

Next in hierarchy to Ivan's organization, after Offen and Najin.

“What’s up, Zek?”

“Huff, huff... That is, you see.”

“Catch your breath. What is it?”

Breathless from running, Zek took a deep breath and then spoke.

“At Daisy Tavern right now, one of Horace’s thugs is causing havoc. He’s demanding Ivan to come. Says he has something to tell him.”

“…What?”

Najin blinked in confusion.

“Is he insane? Why in our territory? We should just tie him up and wait for Ivan to...”

“We can't restrain him.”

Zek interrupted Najin.

“About a dozen of us tried to hold him down, but it won’t last long. He’s an officer, the first leg, Arnold. Looks like you need to come.”

The first leg of Horace, Arnold.

Among the eight legs, he was the strongest, almost reaching Sword Expert level according to Ivan. Hearing Zek’s story, Najin’s eyes narrowed.

“Let’s go. I’ll head there first, follow me.”

“Alright. I’ll catch my breath and follow.”

Najin started running towards the tavern where the first leg was causing trouble. Although he headed there, Najin couldn’t shake off a sense of unease.

‘Why exactly?’

The question lingered in his mind.

Arnold, the first leg, was known as the second-in-command of Horace’s organization. Why would such a person come into Ivan’s territory and cause a scene?

‘Did he catch on to Ivan’s preemptive move?’

No, that seemed implausible.

If he had realized Ivan’s move, he should be guarding Horace in his own territory, not coming here demanding Ivan, claiming he has something to say.

A strange sense of unease.

And above all…

“……”

The air in the streets felt different.

Najin rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, frowning at the stench mixed in the air. It was a familiar smell, but he couldn’t quite place when he had encountered it before.

“…Bring Ivan!”

Then a voice rang in his ears.

He had arrived in front of the tavern. There, Arnold, the first leg, was shaking off the organization members trying to restrain him and shouting.

“Bring Ivan! I have to tell him!”

Arnold screamed with bloodshot eyes.

“That Horace and I, we were just being used!”

His eyes, red and swollen, looked as if under the influence of drugs.

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